


Turbidity

by Destiny_Smasher



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Gen, Protective Siblings, Psychological Horror, Siblings, Step-siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_Smasher/pseuds/Destiny_Smasher
Summary: (An original story set in the Silent Hill universe -- you can read this even if you've never played a Silent Hill game)Step-siblings Oscar and Grace are asked to come visit their estranged grandmother in a quiet northeastern town, but when they arrive, something is obviously amiss, and they find themselves confronting a dark, shared secret.





	Turbidity

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is an original story set in the Silent Hill universe. You can enter this fic having not played any games in the series.  
> This was originally envisioned as a vague-ended short story but I will give it a proper conclusion eventually.  
> 

_**  
[This fic was designed to be read with special formatting, you can download the PDF here!](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1DnVZF9FnhFr1zSEGD4pgXmla5A-PzYVk)  
** _

* * *

 

 

 _**Turbidity  
** _ _(Part 1)_

 

\--

 

“Left or right?”  
  
“Uhh…-”  
  
“C’mon. Intersection’s comin’ up.”  
  
“Mm. Mm-hm.”  
  
“ _Grace._ ”  
  
“ _I’m lookin’!_ ” huffed Grace from the passenger seat, fervently swiping at her phone. “Not _my_ fault reception is shittier than an ass-crack.”  
  
“Why didn’t you _save_ the directions?”  
  
“I suck at directions! That’s what GPS is for, _damn_!”  
  
“Then just-...Why aren’t _you_ driving?!”  
  
“You _know_ I don’t drive, _come_ on, man. Come the fuck on.”  
  
“You really oughtta learn sooner or later…”  
  
“Not gonna happen. I ain’t goin’ _near_ that.”  
  
“ _Fine!_ Then figure something _out!_ ” Flicking his wrists sideward against the steering wheel, Oscar pointed out, “I’m sorta occupied, here. And the intersection is _coming up._ Can’t read these damn signs for shit in this rain.”  
  
“OK-OK-OK…” Grace sighed loudly through her nose as she swiped at her phone. “Left. Left-left. Turn left. Up here. _Here._ **LEFT.** Said **LEFT,** goddamnit!”  
  
“Got it, I got it!” Oscar growled, nearly losing grip on the road as he swerved across lanes.  
  
Whizzing through the rain, Oscar lamented the gray haze that had fallen over the highway. It was Maine, so maybe it was to be expected, but Oscar would’ve been happy enough never coming back to this damned state ever again.  
  
He suddenly noticed the green signs up above -- yep, they were taking the exit they needed. Off to this crap heap that no one seemed to have even heard of. No family connections, nothing. Some kind of old mining town, apparently? A web search hadn’t turned up much. Would they even have WiFi there?  
  
“Why the hell did Gram move out so far to some frumpy town like this, anyway?” Oscar grumbled, swerving them down an exit ramp through the fog. “Middle of frickin’ nowhere…”  
  
Grace shrugged, propping her elbow up on the passenger door and planting her cheek against her wrist.  
  
“Maybe their shrimp gumbo is bomb,” Grace theorized facetiously, adding with bitterness, “Like _I_ ever got how her fuckin’ mind works…”  
  
“ _Fff,_ yea. Well…-” Oscar trailed off irritably. This was going to be a rough visit, no doubt. “Still weird that she’d want us to make the trek all the way out here…”  
  
“Not like she’s gonna have _Ma_ come on by.”  
  
“...Mm,” Oscar hummed in disquiet agreement.  
  
“Man, _fuck_ her, anyway,” Grace grunted, pressing her fingertips into her temple as she glowered out the window at all of the _nothing._  
  
“Who, Ma?”  
  
“ _No,_ dipshit. _Gram._ ” She popped a cigarette out of the box in her pocket. She ignited it with her lighter and sucked on it, exhaling words with smoke. “The _hell_ she want with us out here?”  
  
“Uh…-” Oscar’s eyes narrowed, and he coughed from her bad habit. “It _has_ been a while since anyone’s seen her, right? Probably lonely, wants some company on her birthday.” His voice got hoarse, trying to speak through the smoke. “Can you _not_ -?” He attempted to reason with her, but she was rolling down the window. Thank God. “Whatever it is, I mean, we _kinda_ owe her, either way, don’t you...think?”  
  
The two shared an uncomfortable glance, broken into pieces as Oscar kept checking the road. Oscar swallowed the lump in his throat.  
  
“Seriously?” Grace retorted in a low murmur. With a cigarette pinched in her fingers, she tapped ashes off the edge of the half-open window. Bobbing her head toward and away, she posed dangerously, “We _owe_ her?”  
  
“I’m _just_ saying. It _is_ our fault.”  
  
“ _Fuck_ that! No. Nuh-uh.” She sucked in more nicotine. “You ain’t even gonna _start_ wid _dat_ shit right now.” She had tossed out an accusing hand, but caught herself. She bit her lip, tightened her mouth shut, crossed her arms, and sighed. “I ain’t doin’ it. She's at fault in this mess, too.” Breathing in more cancer stick, she hummed a negatory, “ _Mm-mm_.” Puffing out more smoke, she repeated, “I ain’t doin' it, ain't havin' this talk witchoo.”  
  
Oscar slowed their roll to a dangerously low speed, but he figured it’d be _more_ dangerous to go flying off a highway bridge, the fog was so damned thick out here.  
  
A few moments passed, and Grace made work of her cigarette. She ditched it out the window, then rolled it back up. The pair of them exchanged tired sighs.  
  
“Hella gross out,” Grace fluttered her lips, dramatically so, as she bumped her head gloomily against the passenger window, gazing out drearily into the fog.  
  
“Yea, looks like it...”  
  
Oscar’s eyes remained wide and sharp -- he was starting to get a headache, probably from the intensity of driving for so long. Forgetting his afternoon caffeine didn’t help, probably.  
  
But there it was, at long, long last, the confirmation they’d been waiting all day for.

 

 

  
A massive yet battered, rust-ridden sign that read  
  
Welcome to  
Silent Hill

 

Oscar breathed with some relief, adjusting his steering slightly when he’d slipped across the middle line a bit. The rain seemed to have cleared up strangely quickly, but the fog had gotten worse just as rapidly. Really weird.  
  
The road got very rough _very_ quickly. Before they knew it, their car was bobbing and thumping more than a lowrider because of the poor state of the highway.  
  
“ _Shit,_ ” Grace exclaimed irritably after a few seconds of the chaos. “Ya _have_ to hit every single _one,_ dumbass _?_!”  
  
“They’re _everywhere_ ,” Oscar defended, wrestling with the steering wheel as their pace crawled to a stop. “What do you _want_ me to do?!”  
  
“I _wanna_ be in one piece by the time we get to Gram’s place! _Jee_ -suss!”  
  
Groaning impatiently, Oscar carefully continued pressing onward.  
  
They were starting to yell to get over the noise the car was making from the terrible road conditions. How did people even _live here?_ How could they even _see_ with how thick this freaking fog was? They could barely even make out the road below them.  
  
After some more banging and thumping along at a snail’s pace, a wonderful combination of sounds occurred.  
  
_-fuh_ _ **WHUMP**_ _-_ _  
-_ _ **POP**_ _-  
__-ssssss s s s. . .-_ _  
-_ _ **POP**_ _-  
__-ssss s s s s. . .-_ _  
  
_Aaaaand they had come to a stop after the grinding of metal and plastic against unsturdy stone rattled their eardrums.  
  
A silence as dense as the gray haze around them hung for a couple seconds.  
  
“You are _fuckin’_ kidding me right now,” Grace spat, flicking out her wrist before impatiently slapping it into her thigh. She glanced at Oscar, who was still gripping the steering wheel in futility. “You are one-hundred percent, _foh_ sure, absolutely _shittin’_ me,” Grace huffed.  
  
Oscar sighed out a long breath, sliding down across the driver’s seat. The engine was still running. Slumped back, he stretched out an arm and switched the car off.  
  
“Oh. **Oh!** And offffff _course_ there’s no _god_ damn reception!” Grace was growling, fussing at her phone.  
  
Oscar checked his own phone – dead. He'd used it to make a long call with Ma in the morning, and had forgotten to do much else with it. The car lighter charging cable he'd brought was apparently dead, too. They had Grace's phone, at least, and surely, they'd be able to charge once they were in town.  
  
“Draggin' _my_ ass all the way up to this pile o' shit, road's ain't even _driveable,_ they dunno what a _phone_ is, fuckin'...-”  
  
Absorbing Grace's whining, Oscar wiped a shaking palm down his face, trying to breathe calmly and slowly.  
  
“It-...Look, it’s _fine._ We made it to town, at least. Someone’ll find us, we’re on the main road, right?”  
  
“ _Are_ we?” Grace blurted, shrugging wildly. “ _You_ don’t know! I ain’t seen a _single_ car for, like, fuckin’ _miles_ now, man! _Shit._ Just…-” She hunched back into her seat, slamming herself into the chair’s spine. “We just gon’ _sit_ here? Thumbs up our butts? ‘Til someone _rear-ends_ us, or _what?_ ”  
  
“We could get _out_ ,” Oscar proposed, his patience splintered at this point. This _always_ happened with her, why couldn’t she keep it together anymore?  
  
“Get out?” Grace repeated dryly. Brow raised, arms crossed, she wiped black bangs from her eyes and side-eyed their windshield. Gray. A lot of misty gray. “Get out n' go _where_? Off a _cliff?_ ”  
  
“What? _No,_ it’s-...This is a _town._ There’s gonna be _people_. We’re gonna smack into buildings before we _fall_ anywhere.” He gestured uncertainly toward what was theoretically a road ahead of them. “It can’t be _that_ far, anyway, I mean, we _just_ hit the town’s, like...entrance...sign. Thing.”  
  
Grace’s eyes went wide at him, her head tilting down slightly. Her snapback was on sideways, and she bumped its brim irritably against the window. She waited, giving the pause a lot of pregnancy.  
  
“Oh, _great,_ man. _Yeaaaa,_ great, awesome. _That’s_ the plan. That’s it.” She nodded quickly, in that annoyed way she did when she wanted to just give up and sit on her ass, waiting for someone else to fix whatever was wrong. She pushed up her glasses, scratched her eyelashes, and huffed. Shuffling her cap a bit, she continued to nod as she ranted. “Wander in the fuckin’ smoke, lookin’ for who-knows-what in the middle o' who-knows- _where,_ off to muthafuckin’ _Granma’s house we_ _ **go.**_ Real _bomb-_ ass plan, Bruh. _Real._ ” She had sunk so far back into her seat, she’d reclined it at an angle, like she was ready to take a nap.  
  
“OK, _fine,_ ” Oscar defensively spat, “Just, you know, _tell_ me, Grace, all right? Tell me. What’s _your_ big plan, here, huh?”  
  
“Ain’t _got_ one,” Grace said, pushing her cap's brim down over her eyes as she rested her head against her wrists. Crossing one leg over the other, she yawned. “ _T_ _old_ you, man. I _told_ you, fuckin’ straight _up._ This whole trip was crazy from point A, man. You so goddamn extra, thinkin’ we gonna... _what,_ make up for shit? By havin’ some _picnic_ wit’ Gram?”  
  
“It was a lot better than blowing her _off_ , which is what _you’re_ so great at.”  
  
“You wanna talk ‘bout _blowin’,_ Scar, how ‘bout we talk ‘bout _blowin’,_ enh?” Still covering her face with her hat, she criticized him. “You in such a rush to do this whole damn thing so you can go back to yo _ninja_ sex with…-? Da _hay_ ll’s his name? _John?_ Josh?”  
  
“Justin,” Oscar sighed bitterly.  
  
“ _Justin._ Fuckin’ cold-ass _honky_ Justin. Like Ma don’ know what’s goin’ on wid _dat_. She _knows,_ Bruh. She knows. Maybe move _out_ before ya go fuggin' the neighbors...”  
  
“Ugh…” Oscar’s face was boiling up with embarrassment and frustration. Obviously, Ma knew. He’d _talked_ with her about it. Like a responsible adult. As for Grace, she was one to talk, sneaking and snooping around. She’d let in a girl through her bedroom window one night, near the end of high school. Got caught. Took it out on Oscar for snitching. She hadn’t had any luck picking up chicks, really, outside of that one occasion. She seemed to revel in taking that frustration out on her brother. That’s how he knew she wasn’t seeing anyone. No reason for her to get so bothered by _him_ finding some pleasure in this world unless she had none to speak of.  
  
But it was all a smokescreen, her bringing this crap up. As they sat in basically a _literal_ smokescreen.  
  
“You done?” Oscar checked after a few seconds of silence.  
  
Grace shrugged, still slouched back in her reclined chair.  
  
“Cool,” Oscar spat with sarcastic irritation. “I’ll actually _do_ something about this. Like _usual._ ”  
  
He took out the car key, tucked it in his pocket, and exited the vehicle without a word. Slamming the door shut, he shivered as the damp chill of the fog settled over him. It was kind of weird, though – fog was usually damp, but this fog was not. Come to think of it, it wasn't really obscuring his glasses the way fog normally would, either.  
  
Taking a few steps forward, he stumbled over...a metal...thing? With spikes? Oh, dang, one of those tire traps that cops used? They’d driven right over it. Well, uh, _yea,_ that would explain the popped tires, anyway.  
  
Taking a few more steps forward, Oscar could barely make out something he hadn’t until then. It looked like...another car? Parked sideways? Ah, a police unit, probably. The closer Oscar got to it, the more apparent that became. Yes, a police car.  
  
Before he reached the car, though, the passenger door to their vehicle opened behind him.  
  
“ _ **Bruh!**_ ” shrieked Grace, whipping the door shut. “The _fuck_ is you doin’, man?! Gon’ just _leave_ me in there?! The _fuck?!_ ”  
  
That was Grace, all right. Bunch of swear words, a small show of force, a _lot_ of whining, and some reluctant following along because she couldn’t _bear_ to be left alone. No one to _complain_ to that way.  
  
“I _told_ you what my plan was,” Oscar called back through the fog. “ _You’re_ the one who wanted to take a _nap_!”  
  
“Not if _you_ was gonna _leave_ me! God _damn,_ man! Not OK!”  
  
With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Oscar wiped his coat sleeve against the moisture-slick window of the police car. No one inside. There were some traffic deterrents strewed about the road beside it, but...all toppled over. A squashed traffice cone, a wooden barricade all busted into pieces…  
  
Hands latched across her own elbows, Grace begrudgingly came to her brother’s side.  
  
“ _ **EY!**_ ” Grace suddenly belted out, aimlessly. Her cry echoed eerily.  
“ _ **YO, anyone the hell OUT HERE?!**_ ”  
_‘out here…?!’  
__‘t here…?’_ _  
__‘ere. . .?’_  
  
Oscar, eyes bugged open from the unexpected noise, blinked awkwardly at his sister. Her eyes darted back and forth a bit, waiting for a reply. Receiving none, she shrugged, tight-lipped, and jammed her hands into her coat pockets.  
  
Oscar tried to open the car door, but it was locked. Well, naturally, but...maybe not unlike Grace’s yelling, it was worth a shot.  
  
Removing her glasses and huffing quite audibly, Grace was shaking a bit from the cold. Probably shouldn't have worn _shorts_ on this autumn trip up to _Maine._ He'd tried telling her...

  
She wiped fog from her glasses as best she could, grumbling, “Yea, _Silent_ Hill is fuckin’ right, ain’t no one even _here._ Fuckin’ A, bruh...”  
  
“We’ll _find_ someone,” Oscar groaned. “A cop set up this roadblock, it’s what popped our tires.”  
  
“Yea?” Grace retorted. “So where’s the fuckin’ _pig at,_ enh?” Still shivering while clasping at her elbows, Grace punted a sideways traffic cone. It bounced a few feet, the noise weirdly deafening.  
  
“I, um-...Yea, I don’t know,” Oscar mumbled. “Let’s, erh, head this way, into town. We’ll find someone.”  
  
“ _Man,_ if I ain’t pregrettin’ this shit already…”  
  
Grace wrangled her hands into her sleeves, clenching them into balled fists. Like a ghetto glove situation. Wasn't keeping her hands much warmer, though. Back in the pockets.  
  
Any better?  
_Ehhhhhh._ Little bit.  
  
Still fuckin' _cold_ out here, though, man.  
  
Not lookin' where she was going (shut up, like she could _see_ anything) she tripped and tumbled a bit over a curb. Almost whacked her face straight at a lamp post, but caught herself against it with her palms. Could hear Oscar giggling like a cheerleader at her. Could barely _see_ his dumb ass in all this fog.  
  
“The hell're we even _goin',_ bruh?” Grace grunted out.  
  
“Forward?!” Oscar called back.  
  
“Slow yer fuckin' _roll,_ man!” Grace commanded. Oscar's body looked more like a shadow more than a person. “I _ain't_ gettin' separated out in _dis_ shit, ya feel me?”  
  
Oscar did as asked (told) and stopped, letting Grace catch up to him. She was _not_ cool with this place, either, but damn, what was his deal, walkin' so fast?  
  
“Don't worry,” said Oscar, “I'd be the first one to go, anyway.”  
  
“Why? 'Cuz you a pussy?”  
  
“Uh-” Oscar's face was priceless, man. “I was _going_ to say because I'm black, but...-”  
  
“The fuck's _that_ gotta do with anything?” Grace was Korean. Not like _that_ fuckin' mattered, the hell did someone's skin or whatever _matter_? Fuck that. Why couldn't their family get _over_ that shit?  
  
“Because in horror movies the token black guy is always...-” Oscar sighed. When he saw that Grace did _not_ give a shit 'bout _whatever_ nerd thing he was about to spit out, he ditched. They'd met up and were moving forward at the same pace. “Anyway, _you_ don't have anything to fear. The virgin girl always survives at the end.”  
  
“The _fuck_ you sayin' 'bout me?” Grace hissed, giving him a rough elbow shove. She could _feel_ her voice squeak at the end a bit. Damnit.  
  
Oscar snort-laughed, nudging her off of him.  
  
“ _No,_ whatchoo sayin'?” Grace pressed. Couldn't let _that_ kind of talk stand. And she'd fucking _squeaked,_ now she _had_ to make sure she pushed that back into a grave.  
  
“I'm saying I know why you act so...-” Oscar laughed again, sunuvabitch. His face did that stupid thing when he thought something that was _so-damned-funny_ but didn't have the balls to say it.  
  
“What?!” snapped Grace. _('Nother shove oughtta make 'im talk.)_ “I act so _what,_ huh?”  
  
Wham, both hands, strong push, knocked him off balance. Prick.  
  
“ _Agh,_ jeez!” Oscar grunted, stumbling into a chainlink fence from her shove. Just 'cause she was shorter than him didn't mean he was in charge, here. Guy was a _titan,_ the hell was he bein' such a pussy for? “What the hell, Grace?”  
  
“Ain't no fuckin' _virgin_ ,” Grace growled, leaving him behind to stumble off the fence.  
  
“Oh, _please_ ,” retorted Oscar, making Grace's stomach twist over a bit. “It's written all over your face any time anyone even _implies_ it. Because shoving your brother into a _fence_ totally doesn't make you look insecure at _all_.”  
  
“Fuck _you_ , bruh.”  
  
“ _ **Bruh**_ ,” Oscar mocked her, spitting out a sigh.  
  
Now Grace was gonna leave _his_ ass behind, how 'bout that, huh? Stompin' down a broken sidewalk through a buncha gray cloudy shit, Grace noticed a traffic light. Ya know, those ones where you hit the rusty, gross ass button to tell cars to slow they ass down so you could cross the road? Yea. One o' those. 'Cept the light was dead.  
  
Tried to look both ways down the street.  
  
Uh. Yea. _That_ shit was pointless.  
  
“It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know,” said Oscar, reaching Grace's side. _Tsh._ Yea, easy for him to say, lucky thirsty bitch. “Acting all extra about it – about _everything –_ it doesn't really compensate.”  
  
“Man, I _ain't_ 'extra'!” Grace winced at the thought.  
  
“What, so you're 'basic,' then?”  
  
The pair stood at the street corner. Not a single fucking car anywhere. Couldn't even _hear_ one. Just a boat or some shit off somewhere far.  
  
“The fuck is _you_ doin', puttin' words like that out? Like you even _know_.”  
  
“You're so extra, you're basic.”  
  
OK, screw this. No lights, no cars...She was crossin'.  
  
“ _Fuck_ off, bruh.” Off she went. “Just 'cuz-...We ain't _good,_ ai'ight? Only reason I'm here is 'cuz _your_ punk ass was beggin'. All ya'll can fuck right off, wanna attack me. I got my _own_ problems, man...”  
  
“Ohhhh, so sharp!” Off he _followed._ “I'll cut my finger on all this _edge._ ”  
  
“What? _Dude._ Man. I am _over_ this noise. Step _off._ ”  
  
They were crossin'. Yup. No lights. No cars.  
What the shit.  
  
“I'm just saying, Grace: it's obvious to people. This whole 'angry ghetto' thing? And it's not- _grrff!_ ”  
  
Grace had stopped on a dime, backing _right_ up into her weak af bro. Nearly knocked him to the street.  
  
“ _I_ ain't no ratchet ho!” Grace spat at him. The fuck was with him, gettin' all up on her 'bout this kinda shit, in a place like this?  
  
“Could've fooled _me_ ,” said Oscar. _“Liz_ sure isn't fooled.”  
  
_**LIZ. WHAT.**_  
  
Scooping Oscar by the sleeve and yanking him over the curb, Grace pinned her brother up against a lamp post on the corner. Like, as much as she could. Kinda surprised he _let_ her. Dude was totally bigger n' she was.  
  
“The fuck'd she say 'bout me?” Grace hissed.  
  
Oscar was just _gawking_ at her, with dat _stupid_ look like she was, what, some little kid? Like he was better than her, or something? Better at being a _fag,_ maybe...  
  
Grace kept him stuck to the metal pole for a few seconds. She gave him an extra shove when he didn't say nothin'.  
  
“ _Huh?_ ” Grace snarled, grabbing him with both hands.  
  
“ _Dude._ Grace. She _knows_ you're into her.”  
Guy wasn't even shook by her grip. Of course. Like she said, he was bigger n' she was.  
Being _patriotic_ at her. Patronish? Whatever.  
  
“ _What'd_ you say to her?!” Gave 'em another good shove around, _why_ was he lettin' her _shove_ him around?  
  
“I said she was _right,_ that you _were_ into her.”  
  
_**SHIT.**_  
  
“What the _fuck,_ bruh? Thought at least with _that_ shit you'd have my _back_.”  
  
“I _do_! That's why I'm _telling_ you – cut the 'angry lesbian' act and maybe she'll _think_ about asking you _out...Maybe._ I'm not making any...prom-...”  
  
Their lil' chat was cut short. The lamp post's light was all spotty, 'bout to go out, or somethin'.  
  
- _ **SHRANNGgggg**_ **-** _ **  
  
**_The two of them smacked into each other at the sound of some kinda metal screeching noise coming from behind them. Grace saw that the street lights had been goin' out from the way they came. Couldn't see _shit_ back where they'd come from. Even though it was for _real_ the middle of the fuckin' afternoon. Right?  
  
And then the light right _above_ them? Yea, that one went out.  
  
So. Time to fuckin' _go._ She didn't watch none o' that nerdy ghost movie shit but she knew _damn fershur_ somethin' was up with this place. Didn't want to know any _more_ 'n that.  
  
Hands caught together like when they were kids going to the grocery store, they found themselves with mouths shut n' eyes open, goin' straight for where there was light.  
  
“When the _hayyll'd_ it g-”  
**“** _ **PSSSS-psss-pss!**_ **”** Oscar was hushing her, shaking her arm as he pulled her around.  
  
Ai'ght, fair. She shut up. Could always give it to 'em later. When she was alive still. And the fuck outta here.  
  
Few seconds of running for they lives, then, 'fore she knew it, they were up against some wall. Alleyway, or somethin'. Kept real quiet for a _minute_ , there.  
  
Nothin,' though. No noise. Could still see bitta light out. They were good for a sec. Yea. They were good.  
  
“Dis shit ain't no Kansas,” Grace whispered irritably.  
  
“You _hate_ that movie.”  
  
“ _ **Exactly, bruh!**_ _Gram had it on every fuckin' weekend...”  
  
_“Did you see it?”  
  
“Like _twenty times?_ ”  
  
“N- _No,_ I meant-...The _thing?_ Out there?”  
  
“The _fuck_ you think?”  
  
“Um...No?”  
  
“ _NO. Das right,_ **no.** I ain't 'bouta fuck wit' the next dimension.”  
  
“Next dim-? _What-?_ No. It's, like, a _bear,_ or something.”  
  
“Can keep all dat blood pact, witchin' voo-doo shit, get dat _straight_ outta _my_ life.”  
  
“I _think_ we're all _good_ on that, Grace.”  
  
“Wait, wait, a _bear?_ Is you _playin'_? No fuckin' _way_.”  
  
“It sure isn't...'voo-doo!'”  
  
“Uh, you _see_ this shit goin' on out here? Ninety-nine problems and they _all_ up in _this_ place.”  
  
“What does _that_ mean?”  
  
“Aintchoo the one who was _just_ at me wit' some ghost movie shit? You forget how all that goes, now? All a sudden? Just like that? Ain't the whole point e'rbody get they asses _wrecked?_ ”  
  
“Uh, you mean, they get killed?”  
  
“Da _fuq_ you think I mean, man? We 'bouta get _axe murdered_ up in here!”  
  
“Don't be an _idiot,_ that crap doesn't _exist,_ this has to be som-”  
- _ **SHRANNGgs s s s**_ **-** **  
****  
****HOH, damn.** Least it was far away? More far than last time...Blocks off, fershur. Still loud, though. They could at least talk like normal.  
  
Oscar spit out, “It-It's some kind of wild _animal_ terrorizing the town, or something.”  
In denial. He was in denial.  
  
See, problem wit' relying on his fancy-ass _brain_ too much? Couldn't see the trees for the...trees? The woods for the tree? _Wait...That_ didn't...-  
  
“Town's probably been evacuated, or-...or everyone's locked up in their homes. Safety emergency, or...-”  
  
“Why didn't we hear 'bout this on the radio, or some shit?”  
  
“We had the radio _off._ ”  
  
“Wh-? But-...Man, some kinda nature disaster, we woulda _known._ ”  
  
“Not if-...If this all happened too _quickly,_ maybe not. I'm just saying, this isn't _supernatural,_ use your _head,_ Sister.”  
  
“ _Man,_ you _still_ gonna say dat? After what you _just_ saw?”  
  
“I _saw_ a power outage, and _heard_ some kind of _creature._ ”  
  
“From _hell_ ,” Grace corrected him.  
  
The street light behind Oscar went out. Some light behind _Grace_ went up. All red, n' shit. Was spinning 'round, like a cop car light or something. For her bro's sake, she was 'bout as scared o' going _that_ way in all dis shit 'stead of the street. Least they had even chances with a fuckin' shadow zombie bear from literal hell or _whatever_ that thing was. Demons ain't discriminatin'.  
  
“Grace, stop overreacting, this is just...-”  
“You is in some _deep,_ dank denial, bro,” Grace grumbled, grabbing his arms and gripping him tight. “We gotta turn ' _round_ up in this craziness, head _back_ up the street, march our asses _right_ outta this creepo nightmare theme park, 'n call up your fuckin' _counselor_ 'cuz I _know_ we both be needin' some o' _that_ after-”  
**-rrrrRrRrRRRROOOOOOOOOOooOooOooo o o o o o-**  
  
Aaaaand that was a siren.  
Aaaand it was...snowing?  
The mother living eff, man?  
  
Grace and Oscar gaped at each other in the dim light, that flashing red blinking at them from further into the alleyway.  
  
**-rrrrRrRrRRRROOOOOOOOOOooOooOooo o o o o o-** _  
  
_“A'ight, cool, so _. We_ _ **out**_.” Grace said this through grit teeth as she yanked her brother by the arm, dragging them toward the street, getting darker every damn second.  
  
Only he was _playin',_ trying to get her to come the _other fuckin' way,_ to that spooky red light. WUT.  
  
**-rrrrRrRrRRRROOOOOOOOOOooOooOooo o o o o o-**  
  
“The _fuck_ you thinkin'?!” she growled at him through the siren.  
  
The buildings 'round them were falling the hell _apart_ now, pebbles n' shit all comin' down.  
  
- _ **SHRANNGgs s s s**_ **-**  
  
“We are _not_ wandering in the _dark_ with _whatever_ that is!” Oscar hissed at her.  
  
Grace stopped pullin'. Couldn't see his face. Just reddish snow that didn't smell or feel _like_ snow, fallin' down in this blood-colored bullshit. Knew in every damn bone o' her that whatever was past that light, it was _not chill.  
  
_**-rrrrRrRrRRRROOOOOOOOOOooOooOooo o o o o o-  
****  
** But she also knew he was _not_ gonna do what she said. And she was _not_ 'bout to be out here alone.  
  
“fffffff **fuck** _ **,**_ ” she grunted, thrusting her fists down at her side and rolling her head at how ridick this biz was.  
  
“C'mon, let's _go_ ,” Oscar huffed, hitting her with his hand as he took off for the light.  
  
Siren had stopped, at least. Piece o' snow hit 'er in the cheek. Wiped it off her cheek. Wasn't snow. Ashes? Dafuq? Some kinda fire goin' on?  
  
“Come _on,_ Grace!” Oscar shouted at her, ripping open some greasy metal door by the light.  
  
“I'm _comin'_ ,” Grace moaned, shoving her hands in her pockets and jogging up to him.  
  
Oscar slapped her on the back as she whizzed by. Didn't know what was inside, but at least it wouldn't be out _here,_ and there was at least some kind of lights on.  
  
- _ **SHRA**_ _ **NNGgs s s s**_ **-**  
  
Oscar shut the door behind him, that awful sound getting muffled. The door was...somehow different on the inside than the outside? What?  
  
“ _Bruh_ ,” Grace groaned at him, hitting him with her elbow.  
  
“Yea.” He fumbled his hands around and locked the door, giving it a shove to make sure. Yea, definitely locked.  
  
“Oh,” Grace mumbled, apparently understanding what he'd been doing.  
  
Oscar could barely make out a light switch by the door – no go. He flicked it a few times, but nothing. There was some kind of light behind them, though, down what felt like some narrow hallway, but it was a ways off. A cart full of...metal folding chairs was tucked away to the side by the door. The chairs seen better days, but the lot looked heavy enough to block the door.  
  
“ **Man.** The hell're y-...?” Grace shut up as she saw her brother nudge the cart up against the door. He took the top chair from the stack and jammed it up against the door's handebar. Oscar was _not_ at all sure how much good it would do, but for a few spare seconds, it seemed worth the trouble. Now they just had to find someone who could expl-...  
  
-srrrrssrrEEEEssss. . .-  
  
Oscar and Grace froze up, practically gluing themselves against the cold concrete wall. Huh. It was smooth but rough at the same time, reminding Oscar of a school hallway. The more Oscar tried to figure out where they _were_ in all this dim light, the more he could make out posters, bulletin boards, trophy cases built into the walls, the kinds of th-  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
Good _GOD_ whatever was making that horrifying scratching sound was getting closer. Somewhere from the end of the hall, around a corner. It was heading their way. Like metal being slowly _dragged_ across the floor, step by step.  
  
Oscar nearly yelped with shock when he was _grabbed_ in the dark. His fear had paralyzed his vocal chords, thankfully – and it had just been Grace, clutching her little hands around his arm, trembling like a leaf in the wind, about to be broken from its branch. Unsure of what else to do, but oddly unshaken, Oscar held his little sister close as a dark figure made its way down the hall, passing the narrow cross-section a piece in front of them.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
Whoever it was, they seemed to be having trouble walking.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
Oscar held his breath so hard he could feel his own heartbeat.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
He could feel _Grace's_ heartbeat.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
The agonizing, ear-piercing noise was some kind of...hunk of metal, or something, with different parts pointing in different directions? The person in front of them was...dragging it along behind them.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
Seemed like whoever – whatever? -- it was, it hadn't noticed them.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
It kept on going down the hall. Thankfully.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
Even when it was out of sight – even when they probably could've whispered without it hearing them – the pair remained silent, barely breathing, flat against the wall.  
  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
The sound of a door slowly creaking open vibrated across the concrete and linoleum around them.  
  
-eeeEEEErrrkkk-  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
-CLANG-  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
-. . .SsSsSrrEEEEEEEEs s s s. . .-  
  
Suddenly, _just_ as everything was silent, Grace shoved herself off of Oscar and jabbed an entire hand into his clavicle.  
  
“Fuckin' _bear_ , bruh?!” she hissed.  
  
“OK-OK-OK, something _fucked_ up is happening here,” Oscar admitted through aggrevated whispers, shrugging out his arms wildly. “We can sit around bickering over what it is, or we can keep _moving._ Find someone who can help us.”  
  
“Bitch, 'djoo _see_ that shit? You usin' your _eyes_ , man?! _Ain't_ no motherfucker gon' be jus'... _boppin'_ around this nightmare ditch! No one who ain't gonna chop us _up._ ”  
  
“ **FINE.** Whatever!” Oscar snarled. “We have to _go_.”  
Why'd she _always_ have to drag out every single point she made? Even in a place and time like _this?_  
  
“Damn _right_ we do!” Grace agreed, heading off down the hall without him. Her boots against the cracked and stained floor sent echoes that passed clear through Oscar's sternum. Her whining, however, kept Oscar grounded in the reality that he was here. With _her._ In _this._ “Fuckin' _A,_ bruh, I _told_ you this was wack, I _told_ you this was dumb. as. hell. I _told_ you we was gon' be ree- _grettin'_ this shit, man. Just-... **Fuck.** Jeee-suss. You never wanna listen to _me,_ always gotta go _your_ way, well, _look_ how **dat** shit's goin', now we **done,** now we gon' be heads on spikes on the highway, so the **next** dipshits get stuck up in this place be like ' **OH. HEY. MAYBE I AIN'T 'BOUTA GO IN HERE. MAYBE I** _ **LIKE**_ **LIVIN'. MAYBE-** ”  
“Jesus _CHRIST_ will you be quiet?!”  
  
Oscar's impatient burst caused Grace to stop in her tracks, right in front of a pair of double doors. Looked like it lead to a gym, or something. Probably a swimming pool, right? Yea, had to be, made common sense. Yeesh. The idea of seeing what a _pool_ in _this_ town looked like was less than pleasant. _Man,_ this place was really reminding him of high school. As if he needed _that_ on top of all of the rest of the creepiness.  
  
But now that they were in a bit of light, which was starting to flicker every few seconds. Oscar could see the bloodshot, gaunt look in his sister's face. She opened her mouth – no doubt to shoot off some snarky remark and signal that _thing_ from halfway across the building – but he cut her off.  
  
“I think I actually prefer _SILENT_ Hill to the endless-parade-of- _bitching-_ coming-out-of-you... **Hill.** ”  
  
Grace squeaked an indignant, irate noise, her nose wrinkling with disdain. Her brows furrowed and she shot him a look that read something like, _'Oh, nice one, good joke, great.'_  
  
“'Scuse _me_ for bein' a hundred kinds of _not fuckin' cool_ with any o' dis,” Grace retorted, trying to shove her way through the gym doors.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-_ _  
  
_It didn't open.  
_  
_ “Man?! The _hell...-?_ ”  
  
_-kaCHUNK-  
-kaCHUNgaCHUNK-_ _  
  
_“Grace!” Oscar pried her off of the doors. “You're just making _noise._ Which, I know, is all you're _good_ at anymore, but-”  
“ _Fuck_ off, man,” Grace winced, spinning out of Oscar's grip and wiping at her face with her sleeve.  
  
Well, hey. Was she going to have a breakdown on him? Great. Exactly what he needed. Who on earth even knew what he'd said to trigger any kind of non-aggressive reaction from her...  
  
She peeled off down the hall, shoving her shoulder and clawing at the handle of every door on the way.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-_  
  
“Grace,” Oscar sighed.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-  
  
_Palming his face, Oscar uttered “Unbelievable...” as he trailed behind.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-  
__  
_ Complaining. Swearing. Violence.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-_ _  
  
_It always ended up like this.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-_ _  
  
_Even when 'this' was some kind of, what, mining-gas-induced fever nightmare?  
  
_-kaCHUNgaCHUNK-  
  
_Or even some actual, honest-to-God hellscape leaking through to reality.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-_  
  
Even _then,_ Grace Kym would still, with her dying breath, waste both their time trying to pr-  
-KREEEEe ee e k k. . .-  
  
Oh, dang. She'd found an unlocked door.  
  
Without a word, she swiped her arm up at him, motioning him to follow, before going through herself. Oscar could see the door slowly swaying closed behind her, and in a panic, he lunged out, sticking out his hand to catch the door.  
  
Hurt like _hell_ when the rusted, metal door slammed against him palm, crushing it a little against the door frame.  
  
“ _Gagh-!_ ”  
  
“What-?” Grace whirled around as Oscar shoved through the door, flicking his burning hand around.  
  
The door had one of those heavy-duty windows built in, leaking a small amount of light through. Grace had pulled out her cell phone, using its flashlight to try and survey the cold, damp place they were now in.  
  
“Are you _asking_ to get separated?” he grumbled at her through clenched teeth, hissing air as his arm pulsed from the pain.  
  
Blinding Oscar with her flashlight, Grace just shrugged at him in a numb, weathered way.  
  
“ _I_ didn' make you stick yer _hand_ out like a _dumb-_ ass,” she discarded the matter. Swinging the light back around the room, she cited, “Coulda just _walked_ through, like I did.”  
  
He gave her a dagger look, and she rolled her eyes, slowly stepping forward as she panned her light around. It looked like some kind of ragged, run down locker room. Like a nuclear bomb had hit the town, and no one had set foot in this rotting hole of rust in years. It was especially odd since the hallway they'd just been in hadn't gone through _nearly_ as much decay. Just _looking_ at the state of these lockers could've given one second-hand tetanus.  
  
Grace saw an emptied Gatorade cooler on the floor, the floor around it all...gooey and orange. Looked like some mold or shit was growin' out of it. Nice. Great.  
  
She could feel a bit of tension with each step, between her boots and the _stank_ stuck to the floor beneath them. Groaning with disgust, she cautiously worked her way around it, wincing as her ass touched up against one of the gross lockers. This shit was _not_ her zone.  
  
“For f-...” Oscar sighed, hopping clear over the Gatorade from hell with his damn _wonder_ legs. “Grace, it's just _old,_ it'll wash off.”  
  
“Sayin' that like whatever _disease_ I'm-a get from this'll just _wash off. Tell_ me that when we find a goddamn _shower_ that actually...-”  
  
Speak of the satan. They'd made it to the other side of the locker room, could see the showers off to one side. _Eugh._ Rusty, bust up, leaking _black_ gunk? The _hell,_ man, she'd take that serial killer in the hallway over _this_ shit.  
  
Nearly _slipped_ from all the- **HOHHH shit nah nah nah  
  
**“ _GAHHhhhhh_ _ **ohohohohhhh**_ nope nope nope-!”  
Scared the shit out of her so bad, her phone went _flyin'_ to the floor.  
  
“What?”  
  
The fuckin' floor was _crawling_ with brown, black, _things._ Bugs? Slugs? Snails? _What the fuck ever,_ was nasty as hell! The HAYYLLL'd they come from?!  
  
She could _feel_ the assholes _poppin'_ under her boots as she stumbled around, colliding with her dipshit bro. The two of them slipped right _into_ a _buncha_ these gross nasty  
_ULLGHHHsss-!_  
  
“Get-! Grace! They're-!”  
“Fuck-fuck- **nope-nope** -”  
“ _Stop!_ ”  
  
Could _feeeeelll_ they slimey asses all _over,_ gettin' in her sleeves, stickin' to her legs, goin' in her _boots,_ what the mother livin' _efffff_ \---!!  
  
Grace was yanked onto a bench, got her ass _sat_ right down, and before she even knew what was up you best _believe_ she was yanking these nasty bitches _right_ the fuck off.  
  
“ _Grace!_ STOP!” Oscar growled, grabbing at Grace's hips.  
  
Ain't no way in hell _that_ was happenin', but _shit_ did it hurt, pulling these things off!  
  
“Those are _leeches_ ,” Oscar huffed, his hands frisking through Grace's pockets.  
  
“ _Dude!_ Fuck _off!_ ” Grace hissed, elbowing the fool in the chest.  
  
Choking from the blow, Oscar fumbled out Grace's box of cigs and her lighter from her jacket.  
  
“Stop _pulling_ on them!” Oscar commanded, shoving the lighter into Grace's hand. “Remember when we went swimming up by Gram's, we got these things on us?”  
  
“Fuckin' _deleted_ that memory, yo!”  
  
“ _Burn_ them off. Yanking them is...-”  
  
Aaaand goddamnit, Grace did not even _care_ , fuckers could _burn._ Nearly set her damn shorts on fire, so ready to get them off.  
  
And then Grace realized there wasn't any _on_ her. Coulda _sworn,_ for real, they'd been _all_ up on her, but...-?  
  
“See? You're _fine,_ ” Oscar coughed. Damn, she'd hit him pretty good.  
  
His entire body was _covered_ with the gross little fucks. And he actin' all like it wasn't a thing.  
  
“ _Hohhh_ shit, man!” Grace burst out, flicking her lighter at him.  
  
He wailed, all “ _auughh-!_ ” and leaned all back, but Grace waved that damned lighter all 'round.  
  
When she looked again, _whew,_ god, they was all gone.  
  
Fact, the whole floor was...empty. Well, like, still full of gross...liquids, 'n goop, whatever, but... _all_ those leeches, they all up n' _poof,_ nowhere. Fucking A, bruh, those were like the _worst_ things in existence...The hell was she gonna _sleep at night?_  
  
Would just hafta make sure they couldn't _follow_ her, was all. So kept lookin'. Had to have gone somewhere.  
  
“What?” Oscar checked with her. “What is it?”  
  
“Where'd they fuckin' _go?!_ ”  
  
“They...-” Oscar was gaping around, suddenly noticing what _she_ had already. “...Oh.”  
  
“Bitch, they was _all._ _ **over**_ you, man! _Jeeeee_ -suss!”  
  
Oscar just looked at her all confused. The hell?  
  
“ _Ohhh,_ nah-nah-nah,” she shook her head, shut her lips, and shook her finger at him. “Donchoo be playin', they was _just_ all here, all on you, don't _tell_ me you didn' see 'em.”  
  
Oscar's mouth was open, he looked _stupid,_ no way he hadn't seen it, they were _not_ havin' any of that kinda shit goin' on.  
  
“I ain't havin' this, I ain't doin' it,” Grace grumbled into her own palms, pressing her face hard.  
  
“Wait, what did you _see_?” Oscar asked. “I mean, there _were_ leeches, I saw them, and...-”  
  
“Like a _thousand_ of 'em, dude.”  
  
“ _What?_ No. Maybe...like, twenty.”  
  
“ _All over_ the goddamn floor, bruh!”  
  
“A _few_ of them, I mean, like, I saw maybe _three_ on each of your legs. Tops.”  
  
She'd definitely saw like, at _least_ ten on each leg, was not even playing with this, what the fuck.  
  
“You was _covered_ in 'em,” Grace insisted. Like, he prolly should been havin' trouble _breathing,_ how covered he'd just been, _second_ ago.  
  
“I didn't...-” Oscar shrugged, rotating his arms and checking himself. “Maybe one or two, but...-”  
  
Grace leaned forward, checking under this ghetto bench they were sat on, ready to pop and splinter they asses any minute.  
  
He was dressed for winter – pants, coat, no real skin to show, but _man,_ his neck, face, she'd _seen_ them all over him.  
  
Grace shoved her lighter back in her pocket, took out her phone from – _shit!_ Where was her phone?! _Ah,_ right-...  
  
Dropped it on the floor. Hesitating – those fucking THINGS could've still been there, man, don't even joke about that – she found her flashlight, which was still on, how they could even _see_ each other, really. She scrambled, grabbed it – damn, screen was cracked. _Fffffuck._ Oh god still _worked,_ thought. Good.  
  
Turned it on, had to swipe a few times, but yea, seemed like it worked. She kept the flashlight on, then she checked Oscar's face.  
  
He looked...weird. Like, dunno, somethin' 'bout his eyes. Almost like he was _high_ or somethin'. Fucking _**A,**_ tho, not good in this mess.  
  
“ _Rrgh._ What...-?” Oscar was all squintin' n' crap, putting his hand up and looking away.  
  
But, nah, man, Grace was double checking. She grabbed his chin – he went all _'oww!'_ just like a pussy – and she _checked.  
  
_His skin was...ai'ight? OK?  
  
He looked...like nothin' had even touched him?  
  
Wait, _hold_ up – dag, yo, her legs looks fine, too. Well, gross, dirty, whatever, but, like, no bites or blood or nothin'.  
  
“ _Dude._ ” Grace glared at him, putting her flashlight away. Some light was blinking off by another door. None of this was making sense. See? _Voo-doo_ shit, man. “You tellin' me you was _not_ just bein' bit by those fuckers?”  
  
Oscar rubbed his eyes, coughed, and shrugged. Shook his head, too, like tryin' to get off a hangover. _Ugh._ Had he taken something, or what?  
  
“No one _touched_ me, all right?” Oscar growled, pushing Grace off balance. Nearly fell off the damn bench, but he got right up. “Back off,” he sighed, heading toward the...lockers?  
  
“Bruh,” Grace called out to him. She wanted to get up, but like...was it _safe?_ Like the chicken-shit she was when it came to slimey stuff, she looked all round again before trusting the floor.  
  
-chuKLANG-  
  
What? Bitch was lookin' in _these_ lockers? What for?  
  
“ _Oscar._ Man. C'mon, whatchoo...-?” Damn, couldn't even _see_. Pulled out her broke-ass phone and hit the light up again.  
  
Oscar was...just standin' there, hand on a locker door. Just standin', man.  
  
“Dude, you cool?” Grace asked. Like an idiot. She knew whatever was up, he was wack. Possessed or something? Fuck.  
  
“ _Yes,_ I'm _cool,_ ” Oscar growled, suddenly-  
-KRANGGgg-  
-slammed that locker shut.  
“Just because _you_ morons want to keep slacking off, you expect _me_ to...-”  
  
He was _pissed,_ though, bruh, went stompin' off to the door past the showers. Stopped partway there when Grace grabbed his dumb ass.  
  
“ _Yo!_ Oscar, _BRO,_ wake up, man.”  
  
Good SHAKE, outta snap him out.  
  
He breathed, big breath, coughed, _auuGHHH_ gross!  
Spittin' up black shit!  
“ _HOHHH,_ the fuck, man?!” Grace yelped, flinching back a step. Almost slipped on the gross floor again, stuck an elbow to the wall to hold herself up. “I ain't _about_ to deal with no excorsist shit, fuckin' fresh _outta '_ the power of christ,' yo. That's _your_ house.”  
  
Oscar was wiping this black _nasty_ stuff from his face. All shaky n' shit, but his face looked...awake, anyway.  
  
“Whuh...-?” Damn, he sounded scared enough. So, yea, woke.  
  
“Just _happened?_ ” Grace demanded, steppin' up to him, slow.  
  
“I, uh-...I was just...-” Oscar turned around, looking back at the lockers. Then at the showers. Coulda just been the crap light in the place, but his face looked like it went pale. “ _How...-?_ ”  
  
“What, man?”  
  
“This can't be...-” Shakin' his head some more, like she had _any idea_ what he was sayin'. Wasn't, like, black shit pourin' out his face a big deal, here?  
  
_-kaCHUNK-  
  
_Dude was _peelin'_ outta that place like a monster truck, heading through the metal doors to the next room.  
  
Oh, dag. Hold up.  
  
Swimming pool, nasty, old, all run down, n' shit, but...fuck, Grace knew this, wasn't this...-?  
  
Yes. Oscar recognized it.  
  
Oscar had spent _too_ much time in this place to _not_ recognize it, decrepit as it was.  
  
This was his high school's swimming pool. Hours and hours spent here. He'd won swimming meets here. The banners on the wall were covered in moss and shredded but he could still recognize the insignia. The pool's water was _lit,_ but with how much... _stuff_ was floating in it, he would _not_ call it 'water' at that point. The lights made the room have a greenish glow from all the algae and gross... _material_...festering on the water's surface.  
  
-CLAPpp-CLAPpp-clappp-clappp-  
  
“ _Duhff-?!_ ” Grace puffed in a grunt of fear, bumping right into Oscar's side. He clutched her shoulder instinctively, as if to keep her from falling into the...'pool.' More like cesspit.  
  
The clapping sounded distinctly like applause, defeaning in the quiet echochamber that was...whatever this was. And up in the bleachers, the person clapping...-  
  
Maybe it was the wrinkled suit and tie, or the shape of his nose and chin, but Oscar was _dead_ certain...-  
  
“Grandpa...?”  
  
“Say _what?_ ” Grace flinched even harder into Oscar's side. “Like, who, _your_ grandpa? As in...-?”  
  
“Y-Yea, isn't that...-?” Oscar had looked down for just a second at Grace's reaction, but when he pointed his finger up to the bleachers and looked back up...-  
  
No one there. Just the creepy reflections of light through the murky water slopping around.  
  
“Ain't no one fuggin' _there,_ man,” she shakily mumbled in a hurry, clenching her fingers around his arm with fret. “ _DuUuUude_ ,” she thumped her boot against the cement. “You freakin' me out and I'm already _allll_ freaked out, yo. Let's _bounce_ outta here, man, this place is _nasty._ ”  
  
Oscar found himself paralyzed in place, stuck staring at the bleachers. An unsettingly familiar feeling as his legs turned to lead.  
  
“You...heard him, though, right?” Oscar checked. “The clapping?”  
  
“ _Yea,_ I heard him, and _'parently_ he's the fuckin' _ghost_ o' yo Gramps, so you better _know_ I ain't sittin' my ass down _here_.”  
  
“He's-...” Was she serious? “He was _your_ Grandpa, too.”  
  
She gave him a dumb, wide-eyed look, taking _quite_ an offense. Her eyes half-squinted, her jaw agape, she shook her head at him slightly.  
  
“You fucking _forreal_ right now?” she murmured with disbelief. “That asshole _ain't_ never been _my_ grandpa...An' bein' fuckin' honest,” she added under her breath, “don't think he ever _yours,_ either...”  
  
“It still-...How can you _say_ that? So, what? So Gram isn't _your_ Gram, then?”  
  
“I mean, _kinda_ no? You _seen_ how our fam be like?” Grace spat defensively, removing herself from Oscar's grip with a sharp swing of her arm. “But, well,” she shrugged wildly, staring down at the pool. “Least she _feels_ like a Gram...Oh, _no,_ hold up, I mean _felt_ like, 'cuz no way in _hell_ she's still kickin' it in _this_ place. Swear, man, either she ain't alive no more...or _we_ ain't. Serious.”  
  
Oscar's throat was getting tight just thinking about this. Grace had cut him loose and was stumbling around by the pool's side, careful with each step on the slick, damp cement.  
  
Oscar was able to make his legs _move_ at last.  
  
“That's why we're even _here_ ,” he pointed out. “For _her_. Remember? Maybe she-...she could tell this place was...going to end up like this, and-...I mean, what if she was asking for help? Maybe-...Mayyyybe she needed us to come, and-...and rescue her, or...-”  
  
“ _Man,_ whatever...” Grace's fear was really starting to leak through her quivering, impatient voice, even if her language “Makes no fuckin' sense, why ask _us?_ ”  
  
“What if...-?” Oscar tried swallowing, but...couldn't. He choked a bit, and coughed up...water.  
  
Chlorinated water. His nose burned a little.  
  
Definitely...cause for concern...  
  
“Oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck...” Grace, hands crossed around herself like a protective barrier, was hopping on her heels, staring at Oscar. “ _MaAaAn_ , we gotta _**go**_ , bruh...!”  
  
He stuck up a finger, because _whoo,_ he was going to need a second, here, just...-  
  
_Ulgghh.  
  
_Second, third, fourth cough. The water just kept coming out, splashing against his shoes, drenching his feet. His throat felt like a hose for a few seconds, which was about as unpleasant as it sounded. He was submerged. And then he wasn't. Blinded. Gasping for air. Ready to pass out.  
  
-CLAPpp-CLAPpp-clappp-clappp-  
_“WOOO,_ yeah! _That's my_ _ **MAN!**_ _”  
  
__(Oh, God.)  
  
_Water was dribbling down Oscar's nose. He could barely breathe. His lungs were on fire, arms like rubber, legs like lead, collapsed on his knees at the poolside. The lights were so _bright._ He peeled off his goggles and dropped them on the clean concrete.  
  
And there Grandpa was. In his suit, his beard full and trimmed, his hair particularly well groomed. He'd really dressed up for the occasion, even though he wasn't really a man for that kind of formality.  
  
His dry, cracked hands impacted Oscar's bare, wet back, clamping down against his deltoids.  
  
_“You had the_ _ **stuff**_ _, son! Had the right stuff.”_  
  
No. This couldn't be happening. Never again.  
  
Oscar coughed another drizzle of water out, took a deep breath, blinked chlorine from his eyes. Yea. Grandpa was _there._ He just...nodded. He wiped fresh poolwater from his face, the cheering and applause ringing in his eyes. Ears? He was soaked, exhausted, but he'd lead the lane. He'd made the difference, and the team had _qualified._ They were moving up. The team had made that happen, but Oscar had _lead_ them there. After years of always fumbling at this stage, they'd finally broke down the wall.  
  
Grandpa was chuckling warmly, slinging Oscar's aching arm up and over – getting his own suit soiled with poolwater in the process. The man struggled a bit but managed to get Oscar back up on his feet. His team was hobbling their way over to him to celebrate, so it was time for Grandpa to cut him loose. But it took a moment longer than it felt like it should. And the way his hand smacked Oscar's behind as he saw him off – it applied more pressure than Oscar felt like it should. Almost a grab.  
  
Looking back, that had been the moment the whole problem had started.  
  
“Shit, man, you OK? _Breathe, dude._ I got 'em, we good. _You_ good?”  
  
Grace?  
  
Oscar coughed, and for once, there wasn't any water. He spit out a bit of junk left over – hoping it was just mucus – and breathed.  
  
Grace was standing right in front of him, lifting him up by the armpits, but his vision was all blurred.  
  
He wasn't in his speedo anymore. Back in the coat, sneakers, and slacks he'd been wearing.  
  
Back to this hellish, disgusting, falling apart version of...that place that had once been safe.  
  
“Dude,” Grace said, leaning down and inward to make sure she made eye contact. She shoved his glasses back onto his face, and he could see her again. “You _with_ me, or what?”  
  
“I...-” Oscar burped. It tasted like chlorine. “ _Gugh-_...” He frowned for a half-second, rubbing his chest from the sudden pain. Shaking it off, he regained his bearings. “Sorry, I-...What happened?”  
  
“You coughed up _hella_ nasty shit, Bro...'N then this...fuckin'... _thing_ came, n'...-” She grimaced, flicking her wrist. The light was poor, but Oscar could tell her knuckle was messed up a little. It had junk on it. Black goo? Blood? He couldn't tell. She was wiping it off on her jacket, huffing and wincing.  
  
“... _Mm_.” Oscar wiped his sleeve against his lips. Seemed dry.  
  
But sure enough, at his feet was...uh, some _stuff._ And off in the pool, he noticed...there was a _thing_ that was not there before. Floating. Still. Horrifying in its lack of proper form and its lack of skin.  
  
Just floating. Drifting in the pool.  
  
There was that paralysis again.  
  
“' _Kay,_ so, you _alive,_ le's _leave_.” Grace drew his attention away from...whatever that thing had been. She swooped around Oscar, pressing her palms into his back and nudging him along. She yelped, and he could feel her slip a little, but she caught herself.  
  
When Oscar began putting one foot in front of the other on his own, his legs waking back up, Grace whisked herself ahead of him, practically lunging for the exit door.  
  
_-kaCHUNK-  
  
__Whoa_ , shit, why was it so _bright, yo?!_  
  
Stepped outside, pulling her bugged out bro behind her, and Grace was...wait...-  
_Oof._ Fuckin' _hot._ She put away her normie glasses and got out her summer-time shades.  
Sat her ass _down_ in a chair. Woof. So tired...And this chair was _not_ comfy.  
  
Backyard. Saturday afternoon. Hot sun. Swimming pool. Buncha dirty plates n' shit sittin' around. Empty cans n' bottles. She recognized this...  
  
Wasn't this...-?  
  
“Heyyyyy! Congrats, Sir.” Cousin Cass. He was a tool. “Finally _out,_ huh? Freedom? Your sentence is over.”  
  
Was giving Oscar a big ol' BRO hug, n' they pounding each other's backs like hammers on steaks.  
  
Oscar said, “Ah, well, until next season, anyway.”  
  
“Oh, yea?” Leo was wipin' his glasses with his shirt.  
  
“I've got a couple options to think on, have the summer to decide. Could try making this whole thing a career, maybe. Or I _could_ come back and help coach next year.”  
  
“Dude, I say go for the big leagues. Why the hell _not_?”  
  
“Eh, I mean, States is one thing, but...-”  
  
“Didn't your dad almost go pro?”  
  
“Yea, but-...OK, so, that was baseball, this is swimming, but...he also never really tried _out_ after uni, so...-”  
  
“ _See?_ And wasn't Auntie Sarah, like, some track champion back in her day?”  
  
Oscar shrugged. Grace didn't know, neither. All of this was Oscar's side of the fam. But she wasn't part of the convo.  
  
“We're _built_ for that kinda crap.” Cass chuckled. Bapped his weak-ass fist on Oscar's arm, but nah, Oscar wasn't havin' it. “It's in the _blood,_ right?”  
  
“Uh...I mean, it's _actually_ in the years of regular, measured exercise and training, _but_...-”  
  
“ _Hohhh,_ hoho, man, I'm just messing with ya. Taking all this too seriously. You turn this stuff into, like, _science_ , but equations and all that only gets you so far.”  
  
“It's...been getting me as far as I've been _meaning_ to, up until this point...”  
  
“Hey, well, true, true...Look, all I'm saying is, you've got the _tools, dude._ You are fucking _jacked._ Shredded. That stuff doesn't last forever. Don't _waste_ it.”  
  
“Yea...”  
  
Grace was sittin' in one of their heavy duty, metal lawn chairs, eyin' this fancy bottle nobody was drinking from. Grace wasn't makin' _that_ mistake. Poured herself some in one of the two glasses – like, _fancy_ glasses, all those lines and prancy patterns n' junk cut into 'em. _Mmm._ This drink was the shit, though. Top shelf stuff. _Damn,_ what even _was_ this crap? Some kinda whiskey.

 

Checked the label. _Nope._ Couldn't pronounce _that._ Fancy-ass stuff, though. Had to be expensive...  
  
Backdoor opened. Aunt Jodie poppin' out.  
  
“ _Cassius._ What're you _doing_ ?”  
  
_Hoo._ The Cass' ass was grass. Grace knew _that_ tone...  
  
“I was-...!” Cass lookin' like a dumb pup got caught pissin' on the rug. “Just saying good bye to _Os-augh_ !” Jodie'd come right aroung, _yanked_ that kid by the ear, draggin' hisself out.  
  
“ _Hah._ Later, Cassius.” Oscar looked damn happy to be outta that chat.  
  
Jodie _pushed_ Cass inside, n' her frown went all upside down like a coin.  
  
“ _Heyyy,_ Oscar. Sorry, we're late for Caleb's game, so we''ve gotta head out, too.”  
  
“No problem, Auntie.”  
  
“Congrats, though. You did it. _College._ Be proud, and when that wears off, you shoot for the moon, young man.”  
  
“Thanks. Be seeing you.”  
  
The coin flipped back.  
  
“Not before I _whip_ this boy's ass until he-”  
_-kuhclunk-_  
Closed the door.  
  
_So yea._  
  
Fuckin' _finally._ All goddamn afternoon, and Grace had a second of peace with the only fucking person she was _here_ for, only person she could _deal_ with.  
  
“So,” Oscar sighed, approaching the table.  
  
With her shades on, all kicked back, snapback on her head, Grace gave Scar the ol' nod like the bamf she was. Little cheers with her glass n' whatever, then took another shot.  
  
One glass down, more to go.  
  
Oscar came over to sit down at the only other chair. It squeaked like hell when he scooted it over. Made Grace's skin crawl.  
  
There was a second empty glass on the table, so Grace did what made sense to her. Couple shots o' whiskey, held the glass off to the side, smiled, tipped the glass, spilled the drink on the floor.  
  
“Why-...Why are you-? Isn't that when...-?” Oscar, good boy Oscar, was confused.  
  
“Pourin' one out for Oscar the Schoolboy. He _deaddddd._ You all _grown up_ n' shit now, ey?”  
  
Oscar laughed. Not in that fake way like he did for Cass or whoever, an _actual_ laugh.  
  
“I guess so,” he said, scratching his cheek. Gotten stubbles all on his face, and looked pretty tired.  
  
Grace slapped that empty glass back on the table, took a chug from the glass in her other hand, _poured_ another couple shots in the second cup, and slid it cross the table.  
  
“Ah.” Oscar said. That was it? All he had to say?  
  
Dude did it. Graduated college, top colors, flying honors, all that.  
  
“What comes next, yo? Getchoo a _mannn,_ settle down, be a housewife?”  
  
“Uh...-” Oscar's face went all weird, eyes big, he laughed and shrugged. “Not really sure. Gonna say 'hard pass' on the housewife part, though.”  
  
“You n' me _both,_ Bro.”  
  
They smiled a lil'.  
  
“So, what, then? Wha's next for Big Boy Scar, enh?”  
  
“Still...figuring that one out.”  
  
“Eh. Ya know, das fine. Ain't no rush, right?”  
  
“There sort of is, though.”  
  
_Fuh._ Always had to look at it that way...  
  
“Well.” Grace took a hit of her whiskey. _Mm._ Bruh wasn't drinking his? Dag, man. Why not? “Could jus' take your time. It ain't _their_ time, bruh, 's _yours._ ”  
  
“Mm...” Scar wasn't sayin' _no words_ 'bout dis shit. Gave Grace some bad vibes.  
  
Back door opened again. For _fuck's_ sake. It had to be _him.  
  
_ “Ah. There you are, son.”  
  
_(He ain't your_ _**son,** _ _needle-dick. Not like that'd matter.)  
  
_ “Oh, uh, h-hey, Grandpa.”  
Oscar was a goddamn saint to deal with this.  
  
Man was dressed all nice but Grace knew what was underneath all _that_ noise.  
  
“See you're diving right into that bottle I gotcha. You be careful, now. Slippery slope with that stuff, and...-”  
  
Heh. Asswipe finally noticed Grace sittin' like she owned the place. The look he gave her only made her wanna act like she owned the place _more._ She took another swig of the good stuff. Burned in all the right ways, ways that made you cough, made you breathe like a new person.

Made her feel like a pirate queen, all yo-ho-ho n' shit.

  
“Now, what are _**you**_ doing with that, Grace?” the old man asked, hobbling his broke-ass wrinkled butt over. “That was a gift for your brother-in-law, _**not**_ you.”  
  
“Brother,” she corrected him. _Ohhh,_ yea, e'rbody in this joint actin' all like she wasn't _parta_ dis fam, like she didn't _see_ them two sides avoidin' each other...The Jepkesho's n' the Kym's, s'poda be _united,_ but Grace hadn't seen mucha that. Not enough, anyway. Always had to be like this, one half o' the fam or the other, whoever _dared_ stray across that territory line be gettin' looks like a juggler outside they lane.  
  
_“_ _ **Regardless,**_ _”_ old dick was sayin', gettin' all in her face, “you're not supposed to be _**drinking**_ that. It's not yours, _and_ you're not old enough.”  
  
“ _Man,_ I'm twenty-one in, like, _two_ weeks, Gramps. Fuckin' A...”  
  
“Two and a _half_ weeks,” Oscar corrected, with a sassy wiggle o' his stupid brows.  
  
She pushed her shades down to make sure he saw her deadass glare. The _fuck_ was he doin'?  
  
The old man _took_ the glass right from her hand, dumped the last couple shots of her drink into the pool, n' slammed the empty glass on the table.  
  
“You aren't twenty-one _**yet**_ , ma'am.”  
  
“'Ey, wasn't _finished_ with that!” Grace growled, her hand still holding an invisible glass.

  
“And you aren't _**gonna**_ finish it,” the old man decided, pouring hisself a drink in _her_ fuckin' glass. _This_ prick.  
  
Grace let her hand slap down against her knee and shrugged.  
  
Weren't no chairs for him. Coulda taken a hint.  
He wasn't _welcome_ here, in this place.  
  
But instead? He went to the other side of the pool.  
  
There was some more of those old, nasty metal lawn chairs over there. He picked one up.  
Dragged it across the concrete.  
  
-srrrrssrrEEEEssss. . .-  
  
One step at a time.  
  
-srrrrssrrEEEEssss. . .-  
  
“Ain't no fuckin' ' _ma'am_ ,' neither,” Grace grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms. “'Specially not to _you._ ”  
  
-srrrrssrrEEEEssss. . .-  
  
“What was that?” said Gramps, all pissy n' shit, tryin' to give her some alpha male look while he dragged his bony, limp ass cross the way.  
  
-srrrrssrrEEEEssss. . .-  
  
Could feel her fists shake.  
  
-srrrrssrrEEEEssss. . .-  
  
Old cuck had finally got his chair over. Pushed it open n' just _slammed_ it on the ground.  
  
- _ **SHRANNGgggg**_ **-**  
The fuck took his glass – _her_ glass! -- sat his ass down, nearly hurt himself doin' it. Good.  
  
“Now, **what** did you say to me just now? Mm?”  
  
“I _said_ I ain't no ' _ma'am_ ,'” Grace spat defiantly.  
  
The words was easy but _damn_ did she hate how hard it was to say 'em.  
  
Truth was, the man scared the piss outta her. But she wasn't 'bout to show him that.  
  
Gramps and her had a lil' staring contest for a hot second before Gramps blinked, took his pussy sip of booze, and said, “I suppose you **'** _ **ain't,**_ **'** are you...?” and he just _stepped_ right offa that chat, like they was finished talkin'.  
  
Twisted his seat round, put his back to her.  
  
-srrrrssrrEEEEssss. . .-  
  
The fuckin' shriveled _balls_ on this mother...  
  
Oscar was still holding his glass full o' whiskey, hadn't taken a _nip_ of it. Real nice _gift_ of Gramps, ey? Perfect present.  
  
“You know, Oscar,” old fool said, “looks like you haven't even _**had**_ any yet, have you? Go on, son. It's smooth stuff. Isn't gonna kill ya. Drink up, enjoy it!”  
  
But _Grace_ knew what _this_ limp dick was after.  
  
From the look on Scar's face, way he was lookin' at her across the table, she knew _he_ knew.  
Ain't no way she was gonna leave him here alone wit' _dis_ fucker, not with his parents out settin' up bowling or whatever the hell this party was migratin' to.  
  
“Grace,” said Gramps. Sounded all tired n' impatient. Sippin' at his fancy glass, actin' all that, back to her. “Why don't you run off, now? Oscar and I have to talk. Your father was callin' for ya.”  
  
_Dat_ shit was a lie. Strike two. Strike one for takin' her pirate juice away.  
  
“He can _wait_ ,” Grace said, kicking back in her chair. Gettin' cozy wit' those trenches, crossin' her arms, puttin' her shades up, hat down. She wasn't movin' _nowhere_ until ol' Gramps was gone. “Where yer _wife_ at, ey? Bet she's waitin' on _you,_ don't want you to _stumble_ out here n' hurt yerself...”  
  
Gramps shook his head. She could _feel it_ even from behind him.  
  
“Why do you put _**up**_ with this?” he asked Oscar, all _quiet,_ like she couldn't _hear._ Drinkin' his whiskey...“Absolute lack of respect. Why do you tolerate her?” _  
  
_Oscar gave her a look. She moved her hat's rim a lil' bit, shifted her ass around, crossed her legs in the seat, all slouched back. _Pff,_ fuckin' thug life, this. Workin' at a grocery store, moochin' whiskey at some family gig, playin' bodyguard...  
  
“She's my _sister,_ ” Oscar answered, makin' damn sure Gramps heard loud n' clear he wasn't havin' that kinda talk.  
  
Felt good, man. Grace was shit at most things but damn _straight_ she was gonna look out for her Bro, one person in all o' _dis_ mess who had _any_ idea what she lived with, who made _any_ attempt at makin' her feel like family. She was his sister, no matter what either side of the fam said. **  
**  
“On a technicality,” Grandpa sighed. He whispered, but she _heard_ him. “Blood is thicker than water, son...”  
  
Oscar wasn't gonna say _nothin'_ to that, though, even if Grace _knew_ that _he_ knew it was bullshit.  
  
But Oscar, good boy school boy Oscar, he wasn't _really_ dead, like Grace had poured one out for.  
  
Gramps' hand came on down on Oscar's shoulder, man was all _close,_ and then he patted Oscar, then he rubbed his hand in his hair, 'n Grace was gettin' _the spooks,_ yo.  
  
“I've _**heard**_ about what's been going on, Oscar,” said the old man, disappointed, layin' it on heavy. “With you and that other boy?” Shakin' his head, _dafuq_ kinda balls this asshole had?? “We're all _**concerned**_ about what ideas she's putting in your head. We don't think she's a good influence on you...”  
  
“Fuckin' _hypocrite,_ man,” Grace spat. Nah, she was _done_ listenin' to _this_ wack noise.  
  
Even _Oscar_ looked pissed, so she _knew_ she was right.  
  
_“Fff!”_ Gramps laughin' at her, tryin' to _pretend_ like they allll didn't know what she was talkin' about. “I _**know**_ how your kind works,” Gramps said, “This whole act you put on doesn't do you any favors, you know. Now. I'm sure you've had your fun...-” Grandpa was standing up – she could _see_ the pain when his back gave him trouble. “But Oscar's had a long day.” He _shooed_ at her, like she was just any bitch? “You get along, Grace, before you go and say something you can't take back. Your Dad'll get worried if you don't show up soon. Especially after what happened _last_ time...”  
  
_(Strike three, motherfucker.)_  
  
“I ain't leavin' him witchoo.”  
  
Oh, _that_ caused him to stop.  
  
“Grace...” Oscar said. Sticking his big ol' _hand_ up, lookin' all scared. And he _should_ be scared, what _this_ wrinkled fuck was up to. “It's fine, Grace, don't...-”  
  
“It's _fine?_ ” Grace hissed. Took all her willpower to not shout. _“Fucked_ up **shit** this asshole's _done_ to you?!” She pushed her hands out at the old dick, tearing her shades off and slamming them on the table.  
  
“ _Grace_ ,” Oscar pleaded. But nah, man, Oscar wanted to play schoolboy _allll_ this time, fine, whatever, that shit was _done._ Officially. He could _stay_ seated on his ass, _she_ was standin' _up._  
  
“What's she talking about, Oscar?” Grandpa said, still _playing,_ man! This prick was still. **Playin'.**

 

“You got some _big_ fuckin' _balls_ in that wrinkled _sack,_ bruh,” Grace said, getting up out of her chair when Gramps was over her again. Sayin' this shit was _not_ easy, standing up was hard, legs were shaky, hands were hurting, but she said it. “We _done_ lettin' you bust a nut out on my bro, you got me?”  
  
“I don't **know** _what_ you're talking about,” old man lied, “but you are _**just**_ proving my point right now, kid. You have some _**messed up**_ thoughts going on in that head of yours. Thoughts that aren't right. Aren't healthy. You need help.”  
  
“You fucking _foh_ _ **real**_ right now? The shit you've done to my boy, here?”  
“Grace, stop. _Please._ ” Oscar was _protecting_ him? **Still?**  
  
“I have _**never**_ done anything to hurt Oscar.”  
  
“Aw, right, 'cuz jerkin' off right _at him_ don't count?! Been fuckin' molestin' him for _how_ many months, now?!” Grace puffed up her small chest, hands on her hips, and glared at Oscar with indignant disbelief at the _lies_ comin' out this fool's mouth.  
  
“Making things up now, huh? You are on my last nerve, girl. You need to _**leave**_ **,** ” Gramps said. Ohhhh, _now_ she'd done it. He slammed his glass down on the table, but his old skeleton hand was so broke he _dropped_ it, spilled whiskey all over.  
  
“I ain't,” Grace stood her ground. Sorta. Barely _could_ stand. Might piss herself any second.  
  
Bitch _grabbed_ her by the arms, starting _pushing_ her around. _Nuh-uh,_ that wasn't happenin'.  
  
She kicked and shoved, by accident banged her elbow on the whiskey bottle. Thing tipped over, dumping drink all around. That glass rolled off the table. Hit the ground, but didn't break – sturdy glass.  
  
Whiskey all over the damn floor, _thrashin', kickin',_ grunting, scared shitless but not gonna sit and take it.  
  
She _pushed_ back into him, and they both fell into the pool.  
  
Buncha splashing, gasping, coughing. She made damn sure his face stayed in that water, though.  
  
Words were spilling out through her teeth as she _squeezed.  
  
_“Your fucking _grandson_ n'-...You do _dis_ shit? Disgusting mother _fucker_. You got the _balls-...!_ Tellin' _me_ I'm doin' him wrong?! _Haylll_ no, asshat, _you-_! Never-! He ain't-! You never layin' a fuckin' _finger_ on...-!”  
  
Complaining. Swearing. Violence.  
  
It always ended like this.  
  
As far as Oscar could tell, it always ended in violence with Grace.  
  
At least, for once, it was a good thing.  
  
He'd saved her. Again.  
  
Oscar just _stood_ there. Gaping. Watching his sister wrestle in the pool, holding his attacker down, beneath the surface, not resting until the beast had stopped moving.  
  
She throttled the slimey, snake-like creature a bit more for good measure, uttering an exasperated snarl that reverberated against the inside of Oscar's skull, the rusted metal walls around them, and back.  
  
He watched the already brownish, muddy water cloud up with a reddish hue.  
  
Grace's glasses were drifting in the decrepit pool, her hat floating away.  
  
Soaked, caked in unknown fluids and algae, Grace struggled to the pool's edge. She looked around. From the bottom-lit depths, she groaned in despair, her entire head rolling, before she inhaled deeply and dove back in. Emerging with her glasses in her hands, she paddled toward the concrete.  
  
She hit the wall, tossed her glasses out of the water, and clawed her way upward, her nails scratching at the moss-ridden floor.  
  
The creature she'd strangled was left adrift in the pool, motionless yet swayed gently by the waves Grace created.  
  
Oscar helped his choking sister up and out, and as soon as she was on dry-ish land, she vomitted out a puddle of black liquid.  
  
“... _Fffff_ _ **fuck**_ _!_ ” she screeched, on her knees. Then she sobbed into her legs, curling up into a fetal position beside the gunk she'd just disspelled.  
  
Yea. 'Fuck.'  
That was about all there was to say on the matter, really.  
  
From one gross swimming pool to the next, getting attacked by...whatever these things were, seeing things that shouldn't _exist_ in this time or place...-  
  
Oscar noticed Grace's arm had gotten torn up. Her jacket's sleeve was partially ripped off, and she had two lacerations running a few inches down her forearm, along with some bruising on her legs.  
  
It had been pretty paralyzing to have this... _thing_ all around him, pushing and squeezing, suffocating him. And she'd put a quick end to it, inciting its wrath and getting herself caught wrestling it in that pool.  
  
Just as Oscar went to console her from whatever traumatizing _thing_ had attacked them, she slammed her palms sharply against the concrete.  
  
“Fucker ain't _touchin'_ you again,” she seethed.  
  
“N-No, you...-” Oscar glanced at the snake-like corpse floating in the decayed swimming pool. “You made sure of that.”  
  
“I _did_ ,” Grace muttered darkly, sniffling and coughing. She was quivering like pudding, shakily putting her cracked eyeglasses back on before a shudder fell over her.  
  
“Thanks,” Oscar sighed, not really knowing what else to say. His hand was planted against her shivering, soaked back. The flame embroidery on her jacket was gunked with whatever grossness she'd just swam around in. Looked more like some kind of monster than a fireball now.  
  
After a quiet, awkward moment of nothing but quivering breaths and pool water sloshing beside them, Grace laughed weakly.  
  
“See, bruh?” she murmured, shivering. “ **Got** chu, fam...”  
  
Oscar encased her in a hug, his own coat getting slick with water and...everything else.

“Yea,” he chuckled warily. “Yea, you do...”  
  
His cheek against her goo-plastered back, Oscar's gaze fell to the pool beside them. The whole room was getting darker. Their only source of light, from underneath the pool's surface, was getting clouded over by the murk Grace had stirred into the liquid. Now the pool's water was thicker than it had ever been.  
  
Cold, drenched, shaking, and lost, the two siblings held onto each other in their foggy, turbid reality, growing dimmer all over again.  
  
Oscar was tired. He would've been content at letting things end this way.  
  
“'Kay. But, like...we gotta _get_ cho ass up, now.” Grace was not. “I ain't dyin' in _this_ stanky rust hole.”  
  
It took a minute, but Oscar was pulled to his senses enough to find himself standing on two feet, his much smaller-statured sibling trying to help hold him upright. Coming to, he leaned into the metal double doors before them, and the pair pushed themselves forward, hoping to find their way out of this murky mess.

 

 

 

 


End file.
